"Which is your best horseman, Mr. Bellairs? Is his horse comparatively
fresh? I'll need him to gallop with a message. I'll dictate it to
Captain O'Rourke as soon as he is ready. Let the gunner stay here close
to me."

Bellairs sought out his best man and the freshest-seeming horse in
wondering silence. He felt sick with anxiety, for what could one lone
veteran Risaldar do to protect Mrs. Bellairs against such a horde as
was in Hanadra? He looked at the barracks, which were still blazing
heavenward and illuminating the whole country-side, and shuddered as he
wondered whether his quarters at Hanadra were in flames yet.

"It's a good job old Carter happened to be here!" he heard one of his
men mumble to another. "He's a man, that is--I'd sooner fight under him
than any I know of!"

"What d'you suppose the next move is?" asked the other man.

"I'd bet on it! I'll bet you what you like that--"

But Bellairs did not hear the rest.

A bugle rang out into the night. The gunners stood by their horses. Even
the sentries, posted outside the rampart to guard against alarm, stood
to attention, and Colonel Carter, wincing from the pain in his right
arm, walked out in front of where the men were lined up.

Captain O'Rourke walked up and saluted him.

"I've arranged to bury them in that trench we dug this evening, sir,
when the trouble started. It's not very deep, but it holds them all.
I've laid them in it."

"Are you sure they're all dead?"

"I've burnt their fingers with matches, sir. I don't know of any better
way to make sure."

"Very well. Can you remember any of the burial service?"

"'Fraid not, sir."

"Um! That's a pity. And I'm afraid I can't spare the time. Take a
firing-party, Captain O'Rourke, and give them the last honors, at all
events."

A party marched away toward the trench, and several minutes later
O'Rourke's voice was heard calling through the darkness, "All ready,
sir!"

"Present arms!" ordered the colonel, and the gunners sat their horses
with their hilts raised to their hips and the two long lines of infantry
stood rigid at the general salute, while five volleys--bulleted--barked
upward above the grave. They were, answered by sniping from the
mutineers, who imagined that reprisals had commenced.

"Now, men!" said Colonel Carter, raising his voice until every officer
and man along the line could hear him, "as you must have realized,
things are very serious indeed. We are cut off from support